Subversion
by Smiling Seshat
Summary: Draco's Veela abilities awaken. His mate is Gilderoy Lockhart... This makes Lucius Malfoy *deeply* unhappy.


**Theme** : Veela!Draco. Trope subversion challenge.

 **Prompts** :

12 (closing sentence) None of that mattered now.

14 (quote) Family means nobody gets left behind. Or forgotten.

15 (word) Spice

 **Summary:** Draco's Veela abilities awaken. His mate is Gilderoy Lockhart. This makes Lucius Malfoy deeply unhappy.

 **A/N:** Since the biggest cliché of the whole Veela!Draco trope is him having Hermione or Harry as his 'mate', I decided to change that.

 **Important:** As a reminder, I write in British English. That means that I write 'colour' and not 'color', or 'humour' instead of 'humor', and so on.

 **Betas** : Calloniel (helped and encouraged me), Story Please (helped flesh out the story), Serpentine13 (gave me helpful comments), Sehanine (found all the small mistakes I missed), corvusdraconis (made my punctuation beautiful, and added commas where I forgot them) and Rationally Ill (who was there despite me asking at the last minute).

-x-x-x-

It happened in Draco Malfoy's second year, during his first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. All of the Slytherins were filling out a ridiculous pop quiz Lockhart had assigned them. Draco was staring at his own empty quiz, which apparently only consisted of trivia items relating to Gilderoy Lockhart's personal tastes.

He was filled with boiling rage. Last year he had received decent marks in Defence class, and yet this year, because of an utterly incompetent teacher, he would be lucky to pass at all. What teacher worth their salt actually expected students to know their _teacher's_ favourite colour, anyway?

He remembered how last year he had complained to his parents about Quirrell, and they had simply told him to think of it as some additional _spice_ in his life, a difficulty to overcome. So, he had treated the teacher as an obstacle and had done a lot of research during his free time, trying to learn as much as he could to get the education Quirrel consistently denied him. He had managed to pass the year with a good knowledge base and had felt confident about his second year.

But this… _ponce_ was simply disgraceful. Draco vowed to send an owl as soon as class was over. He had promised to notify his parents with information on whether this year's teacher was better than Quirrell. Draco knew that as soon as his father heard about the situation, Lockhart would be fired.

He felt dark satisfaction at the thought.

He had already been livid the year before, when that aggravating Granger girl had received better grades than him just because she was a teacher's pet. His father had made it very clear that it was shameful to have a Mudblood best him in class, and he needed to make up for it this year. But, if he would have to survive with Lockhart as a teacher… He was pretty much doomed to fail.

"This is bloody ridiculous," he hissed, staring balefully down at his quiz. He had not been able to answer a single question. His father had paid far too much money to the school for his education to have come to this.

Family meant that _no one_ got left behind or forgotten. The Malfoys respected and protected their own, and Draco knew that if he asked, his father would help. It was said that at some point in the past, Veela blood had been added to the Malfoy lineage, and Veela had an impressive protective instinct when it came to family members, especially their young.

A few minutes later, Lockhart picked up all their papers. When he got to Draco's blank parchment, he said, "Tut tut - it seems one of you didn't do their research! Honestly, the twelfth question was an easy one — I mentioned several times in my books that I use the feather of a Jobberknoll as a quill!"

Draco was so filled with rage; he could barely contain himself. He stared down at his desk, knowing that if he looked up he would not be able to stop himself from sending a scathing retort to that _useless_ man.

"I hope that this will be the right impetus to encourage you to study hard this year, young man! You won't get as far as I have in life if you insist on being a slacker."

Furious, Draco raised his head to give the teacher a piece of his mind, but then he froze, his gaze set straight on Lockhart's face, which was an arm's length away from his own.

Something inside him seemed to shift and change and suddenly, he felt entirely different, inside and out.

For no visible reason, Draco forgot about his anger, and a blissed-out smile spread across his face. He looked as though he was the victim of the Imperius curse, forced to act so very unlike himself.

"Whatever you say, sir," he slurred, mesmerized by Lockhart's face.

"Well, then!" Lockhart exclaimed heartily. "That's the spirit, young man! Now, class, remember to read pages 10 through 53 on my humble beginnings for discussion tomorrow in class!"

Draco nodded slowly, the bemused expression in his eyes giving him the appearance of someone who had been hit in the face with a bludger as he struggled to think straight.

-x-x-x-

When class finally ended, most of the students were in a hurry to leave and escape from their teacher. Draco was the only one who stayed behind, his expression blank and his mouth half open as he stared at Lockhart. He gave the impression of being in a deep trance.

Lockhart was piling all his papers together on his desk. He then opened a binder to hold them. Once he snapped the binder shut, he turned around.

He was evidently startled at seeing Draco there. A well-practised smile appeared on his lips.

"Why, hello there! Is there anything you wanted?"

Draco frowned, as though he wasn't quite sure of what he wanted either, but with a tilt of his head, he wiped the emotion from his expression as he gave Lockhart a disarmingly blissful smile.

"I wanted to see you, sir."

Lockhart nodded, having expected it. He wasn't surprised that one of his fans had not been able to stop themselves from jumping on the opportunity to see him.

"I see. To whom should I address the autograph?"

"Malfoy," said Draco. "Draco Malfoy."

Lockhart brought forth some parchment and a bright blue quill. With a dramatic flourish, he wrote:

 _Dear Draco Malfoy,_

 _I wish you luck with your academic success._

 _Gilderoy Lockhart_

He presented it proudly to Draco, who grabbed it and then went back to staring at Lockhart.

Slightly uncomfortable, Lockhart said, "While I know it is tempting to stay with one's idols, my dear boy, I am going to be quite busy grading papers. I shall see you in your next Defence class!"

Draco did not quite seem to get the hint, staring at Lockhart as though nothing was more important.

"It is a curse to be this beautiful," announced Lockhart with a sigh. "I know it's hard for you, but you must be going. Could you do that for me?"

The last word was what caught Draco's attention. The boy blinked, seemingly only then realizing where he was. He snapped his mouth shut and straightened, looking around himself confusedly.

"Yes, sir," said Draco.

He left.

-x-x-x-

That evening, once Lockhart had finished teaching for the day and had spent an hour grading the pop quizzes his students had taken, he left his office and went to join the Great Hall. He was a bit hungry and felt in the mood for some roast beef.

While walking through a corridor, Lockhart noticed that the paintings were all staring at something behind him. Mildly worried, he turned around, his hand inching closer to his wand.

When he saw that it was only one of his students, he relaxed. The boy was the one who had waited in the classroom for his autograph. A bit annoyed that his fan could not leave him alone, he smiled politely. Hopefully this one would be easy to get rid of.

"Draco Draco Draco…" he said, sighing dramatically. "It's normal to want to follow me, but fame isn't contagious, I'm afraid. You won't be famous by staying near me. You have to work for it. I know that when I was young, I followed famous people around in the hopes of becoming just as popular, but it doesn't work that way. And if you were following me for a second autograph, then I'm afraid you'll have to wait. I'm off to eat dinner, you see."

The boy did not answer. He just stared at Lockhart, his gaze eerie and intense.

Lockhart shivered. "Merlin's beard, you're a strange one," said the man.

And with that last comment, he left the boy to his own devices.

Once Lockhart was gone, Draco shook his head, looking angry and frustrated. He clutched his head, looking around himself in confusion.

-x-x-x-

That night, a bleary-eyed Lockhart was awoken by insistent knocking. While trying to summon some of his usual good cheer, the man fumbled around in the dark. He found his slippers and put them on, and then he tied a nightgown around himself.

The knocking still had not stopped, so he hurried towards the entrance of his private quarters.

"Yes, I heard you!" he grumbled. "I don't give any autographs this late. Don't you fans ever sleep?"

Finally, he got the door open. On the other side was the young Draco Malfoy, looking half-asleep. The boy was holding several blue quills in his hands.

"Are those for me?" asked Lockhart, pleasantly surprised. The boy looked dead on his feet, with his hair going in every direction. It was adorable, really.

Draco nodded, holding them out.

Suddenly feeling much less annoyed about being woken up, Lockhart took hold of the quills. A closer examination of them revealed that they were made from Jobberknoll feathers.

"I see you remembered my favourite kind of feather for a quill. These are rather expensive, though, and on such short notice. However did you manage?"

"I used my allowance, sir, and paid twice the amount to have them sent today."

Surprised, Lockhart stared at his student, wondering if it had been a joke. "My dear boy, these are very expensive luxury items! Are your parents fine with you using such an... _exorbitant_ sum?"

Draco nodded. His eyes were unfocused, and with the large amount of money he had spent seemingly without care, Lockhart was worried the boy might have ingested some psychoactive substance. It would explain his irrational behaviour. Lockhart's usual fans never acted as strangely as this one.

"Yes," said the boy, a smile appearing on his face. "I'm going to tell my father this evening. He doesn't like it when I spend money without asking for his permission first, but once I tell him my Veela abilities awakened and you're my mate, it'll be fine."

Lockhart choked.

-x-x-x-

A few days passed, and Lockhart tried to ignore the boy, hoping the issue would go away if it was ignored long enough.

Lockhart was currently in his office, staring at himself in the mirror while wearing a fur hat and wondering if it suited his curly golden locks, when a knock came at his door.

"Come in! I don't normally give autographs this late, but I'm willing to make an exception this time!" he exclaimed, not even bothering to look up. He hastily picked up his quill to pretend he'd been grading some papers.

"Ahem." The voice was far too gruff to be a student.

When he glanced up and saw Lucius Malfoy glowering in the doorway, his usually vibrant smile tightened into a grimace, and his face paled.

"Why, Mister Malfoy! What an honour to meet you! I expect you'll have heard about what happened to your son - a dreadful misunderstanding, it was! Yes, quite the misunderstanding that had nothing to do with me—"

"Yes, I heard," said Malfoy darkly. "My son's Veela abilities appear to have manifested in your class this afternoon. As you likely know, this only tends to occur near a person with complementary magic. A potential soul-mate, if you will."

Lockhart shook his head frantically and wrung his fur-lined hat in his hands. "No, no, it was nothing, dear sir, it was absolutely nothing—"

"You'll find," continued Malfoy, ignoring Lockhart's denials, "that the Board of Governors will not reflect kindly on an adult male in a position of authority being magically linked to _my son_. One could think you were entertaining… less than _pure_ thoughts. After all, Veela instincts will only ever target the most ideal and powerful person available, one that would also not be averse to the idea of being... _mated_ to said Veela." His lips curled disdainfully around the word 'mated' while he glared at Lockhart none too subtly.

Lockhart puffed up angrily. " _Why_ , you see here! I am not some kind of deviant pervert. I would _never_ —"

"If you 'would never'," hissed Malfoy, stalking towards Lockhart, "then my son's _unfortunate abilities_ would not have awakened near _you_. Now, unless you want me to tell the Board of Governors how worried I am about my twelve-year-old son's professor triggering my son's Veela abilities, and that they would _only_ manifest if he were amenable to… romantic relations… with a _minor—_ which would get you very _publicly_ _sacked_ —I suggest you resign at the earliest opportunity and leave."

Lockhart spluttered and reeled back in his chair. "I will not! Even if I did, isn't it true that a Veela will feel tremendous amounts of pain if separated from their mate for too long?"

Malfoy smiled. It was not a nice smile.

"That only applies to mated couples. Veela do not mate for life, so as soon as you disappear from my son's life, his instincts will force him to look for another potential mate. I am already at work in procuring a… suitable one."

"I refuse to simply resign! I will not let myself be ordered around by a—"

"A what?" asked Malfoy pointedly. "A concerned father? The chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors? It would be unwise to insult me. I am kind enough to give you a warning so you can avoid the public humiliation of being sacked and the loss of your reputation. _You_ should be thanking _me_ for making the effort, _half-blood_. I could ruin you. Be thankful I decided to have mercy."

Lockhart's face grew purple, but he held his tongue.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Well? I trust that you know the way to the Headmaster's office. Do I need to explain to you how to resign, or are you capable of that much on your own?"

Lockhart was trembling from the effort of containing himself, but his voice was surprisingly calm as he said, "I can manage, thank you."

Malfoy moved to the left and made a sweeping gesture towards the door.

Fuming, Lockhart strode out of his office and left.

Once he was sure he was alone (other than the numerous portraits of Lockhart hanging on the wall), Malfoy allowed himself a small smirk.

Lucius had been worried about his son. His concern for Draco had rested on Lockhart's unclear intentions. He had hoped that Draco would have been able to control his instincts and, thankfully, he had. Had Draco's Veela abilities emerged entirely, Draco's personality could have completely changed in the presence of a suitable mate. That was something Lucius could not—would not—abide.

Lucius would not have admitted it to anyone, but he had been quite distressed. He had spent countless nights waking up from nightmares where he had to walk his son down the aisle toward that grinning, pompous arse. With Lockhart on this way to the Headmaster's office to tender his resignation, he knew his worries had been for naught.

He thought of his previous worries about Lockhart. He smiled, relieved.

None of that mattered now.


End file.
